In the heart of Harvard, Alessia Gilmore is ready to embrace her second year and the independence it brings. After a summer spent reconnecting with friends and discovering herself, she's determined to step out of her twin sister Rory's shadow and ca...
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The sound of his skates cutting the ice was a rhythm Beau could lose himself in. It drowned out the noise in his head, the doubts, the whispers that he wasn't enough-not talented enough, not disciplined enough, not worthy enough to be the captain.
Coach hadn't said much, but Beau knew the role was up for grabs. He could see it in the way Coach watched them during practice, the weight of his gaze like a silent test. Beau felt it in every drill, every scrimmage, every meeting. This wasn't just a tournament; it was a proving ground.
The guys had already filed out of the rink after practice, laughing and joking, their voices fading as the locker room door swung shut. Riley had thrown him a look before leaving, a mix of concern and exasperation, but Beau had waved him off with a grin.
"Just a few more laps," he'd said.
Now the rink was quiet, the ice beneath him a mirror reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead. He pushed forward, skating harder, faster, his legs burning as he rounded another turn. His lungs ached, but he didn't stop. Stopping wasn't an option.
He thought of his parents, their cautious smiles when he'd told them about the tournament. His dad's quick pat on the shoulder, the silent message clear: Don't screw this up. He thought of Riley, the way his boyfriend had been watching him lately, like he was worried. Beau didn't need that right now. He didn't need anyone doubting him-not even Riley.
This was his shot to prove himself.
The puck clattered against the boards as he missed his pass for the third time in a row. Beau cursed under his breath, skating to retrieve it. His stick felt heavier than it should, his grip slipping slightly. His chest tightened, but he shook it off.
One more drill, he told himself, lining up the puck again.
His stomach growled faintly, but he ignored it. Dinner had been rushed-a few bites of pasta before he'd headed back to the rink. He hadn't been hungry anyway. Adrenaline and nerves had killed his appetite, and now it was just... whatever.
The puck hit the net this time, but the shot wasn't clean. Beau gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling up. He skated to center ice, setting up another shot, the ache in his shoulders spreading down his arms.
He didn't notice the time slipping by until the rink door creaked open.
"Beau," Riley's voice called out, echoing in the empty arena.
Beau turned, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples. "What are you doing here?"
Riley crossed his arms, his expression a mix of annoyance and concern, though his blue eyes were softer than Beau expected. Riley always had that way about him-firm, but gentle.
"I could ask you the same thing. It's almost midnight."
Beau blinked, glancing at the clock above the scoreboard. He hadn't realized how late it was.
"I was just... finishing up," Beau said, his voice defensive.
"Finishing what? Skating until you drop?" Riley shot back, stepping onto the ice with practiced ease.
Beau scowled. "I'm fine."
Riley skated closer, stopping just in front of him, his expression softening as he looked at Beau with concern-the kind that made Beau want to both pull him closer and shove him away. "Beau, you're killing yourself over this. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."
"Yes, I do," Beau snapped before he could stop himself. The words hung in the air, sharp and unyielding.
Riley's jaw tightened for a moment, but his gaze stayed steady, warm even. "You're already good enough, you know that, right?"
Beau looked away, gripping his stick tighter. "If I don't push myself, someone else will. And they'll get the spot. They'll be better."
Riley let out a breath, his frustration evident, but he didn't push further. Instead, he rested a hand on Beau's shoulder, his touch firm but comforting. "Just... don't forget that you're part of a team. You don't have to do this alone."
Beau's chest tightened at the quiet sincerity in Riley's voice. He nodded, but it felt hollow. Riley didn't understand. How could he?
"Go back to the room," Beau said, forcing a grin. "I'll be right behind you."
Riley hesitated, searching his face for a long moment, his eyes soft but worried. He finally nodded reluctantly. "Don't stay out too late, or Coach will lose it."
Beau watched him go, the quiet returning as the rink door clicked shut. He stood there for a moment, his stick still in hand, before turning back to the puck.
Just one more drill, he thought.
But even as he skated forward, his legs trembling slightly beneath him, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that it was never going to be enough.
